


He who has no sister seems to me to live in vain

by thetravelinglemon100



Series: Lost for words [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Sibling Relationship, Steven remembering, cute but sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetravelinglemon100/pseuds/thetravelinglemon100
Summary: Steven thinks back on Vicki's departure. The title is taken from the poem 'My Sister's Cake' by Eugene Field.





	He who has no sister seems to me to live in vain

**Author's Note:**

> The kind of thing I think may have gone through Steven's head when Vicki left. Steven's sister was created by myself - nowhere in canon is it stated that he had siblings. I'm pretty convinced he did though.  
> Originally posted on teaspoon, now moved over here.

It hurt more than he let on that he’d never said a proper goodbye to Vicki. Steven didn’t blame anyone - _tried_ not to blame anyone — but had she been _so_ besotted with this man that she’d stopped caring if he was okay? He’d been _dying_ , and she’d skipped happily out of his life and into the arms of Troilus to become, apparently, the famed Cressida.

Everything was a blur when you travelled with the Doctor, Steven knew that. He knew you rarely had an opportunity to take a breath, much less pause to think, and people came and went on the spur of the moment — Ian and Barbara, Vicki, Katrina, Sara, Dodo, Kit — they’d all joined or left the Doctor on an impulse, without any thought or reasoning. He should include himself on that list, of course. Steven honestly didn’t know if he’d wanted to rule a people, but it had been an opportunity: the Doctor had encouraged it, and he’d become sick of the death that followed them round everywhere, so he left.

_At least he’d said a proper goodbye._

No, that wasn’t fair. The circumstances were different, he shouldn’t compare them. Vicki had left in the tumult of war, knowing that the man she cared for was fleeing for his life and that she should accompany him or lose him forever. But was-

Steven cut off that train of thought. What kind of a sceptic had he become that he could genuinely ask if it was such a bad thing to lose forever someone you loved? Clearly the years had hardened him beyond his understanding if he thought he had the right to take precedence over Troilus in Vicki’s heart. They’d cared for each other, that much was clear from all that horrendous flirting, and it was to their credit that they’d taken the chance for something more and run with it. 

Besides, what had he been to Vicki? What had he _really_ been to her? A friend, he was sure of that. Someone to brag to, teach, and reach high shelves for her — that was undisputable. A _brother_? He didn’t know. He wanted to believe he’d been like a brother to her but, in truth, they’d barely known each other. Her place in his heart was half due to who she reminded him of, not who she actually was. It was a discredit to him to admit it, but it was true.

Why else would it hurt so much that he’d never been able to say goodbye?

Steven would almost have believed he was having some strange, warped dream when he met Vicki, if not for the others. She looked nothing like his sister, except perhaps in build, but she was so like her in personality. Both so in love with the universe, wanting to see and do everything as quickly as possible. So ready to admire, and laugh, and play. His sister had made him laugh too, had guided his eyes to see the beauty of the world. But that was a long _long_ time ago.

He hadn’t seen Jacqui for decades now. He’d stopped hoping he’d ever see her again.

Vicki had helped him laugh; helped him see the world in a better light. She’d teased him just like a sister should, and he’d teased her like a brother in return. It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough, and Steven had even caught himself once or twice closing his eyes to imagine it was Jacqui cutting his hair, or giggling, or bringing another stray animal home, rather than Vicki.

It had angered him to realise he’d belittled Vicki in such a way. He’d been so anxious to remember Jacqui — to see her again and relive his past — that he’d made Vicki into little more than a representation of Jacqui; an image. He’d made her into _less of a person_ because he missed his sister. It was wrong, but he could never stop his head ringing with just how much Vicki reminded him of her, and how much it hurt that she would grow old believing her brother had been killed in action when in reality he was alive and well. He cared for Vicki, but it was impossible to look at her and not be reminded of Jacqui.

It wasn’t Vicki’s fault she’d left without saying goodbye, in the end.

Vicki didn’t _need_ a big brother: she had Troilus, and besides that was perfectly capable of looking after herself. It wasn’t his right to stand in the way of the rest of her life and make her stay just because he’d miss her.

Jacqui had said something similar when they’d said goodbye: she would miss him, but she wanted him to be happy, flying through the stars. He could tell her about all his adventures when he got home, and besides, he wouldn’t be gone for long — two years would fly by.

What a lie to tell her big brother to stop him from crying.

Steven didn’t blame Vicki for leaving him, but he did blame himself for leaving Jacqui.

_And he always would._


End file.
